Notice Me
by Moonchild10
Summary: Ingrid is disturbed by some potentially problematic feelings that suddenly awaken in her, but she's not even sure if they're what she thinks they are. Chapter 7 is here!
1. Wow, chapter one

Disclaimer: Um...yeah.  
  
This is my first Fillmore fic, so be nice or I'll have to..um..I don't know yet. Gawd I'm stupid. OK, let's start this thing.  
  
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Ingrid Third turned left at the fork in the hallway, following her impulse.  
  
"This better not be the wrong way again, or I swear I'll-" she said aloud, but stopped when she saw the tall, brown haired delinquent John Hasseney run out in front of her, closely trailed by Fillmore, who was gasping for breath with the exertion of the chase, which had been going on for almost half an hour straight now. Ingrid struggled to keep her mind on the chase instead of letting it wander to other things, but as she did this, she lost her concentration for a split second, and John immediately sensed this and charged straight through her, knocking her back and causing her to tumble to the ground. He ran off in the direction Ingrid had just come from. Fillmore hesitated in his pursuit of the criminal.  
  
"You OK Ingrid?" he inquired.  
  
She nodded quickly. "Go on. I'll catch up," she said hastily. He nodded and took off in hot pursuit of John. Ingrid picked herself up off the ground and followed after them, disgusted at herself. "Pull yourself together Third. You've got to catch this guy," she mumbled to herself, running a bit more slowly than normal because she wasn't sure that she even wanted to catch up. Who knew what kind of slip up she might make, and what it would cost them. Better to let Fillmore take this one and spare the safety patrol the humiliation of letting Hasseney evade them for the third time in a row. Ingrid did NOT want to get stuck dealing with overdue library book crap again.  
  
She ran unenthusiastically for a bit longer until she came around a corner and came about three inches from colliding with Fillmore, who was standing still, breathing heavily. The chase had gone on for nearly forty-five minutes now, with no progress.  
  
"We lose him again?" Ingrid questioned, panting ever so slightly. She hadn't been running nearly as hard as Fillmore had. He gave a grim nod and a hoarse sight.  
  
"Third time," he said in disgust, shaking his head. "Better head back and get another 'I'm disappointed in this safety patrol' drill from Folsom."  
  
They started off down the hallway once more.  
  
"What I don't understand," Ingrid said "Is why a psychic would come down the same hallway as us, unless he were trying to lure us into something."  
  
"Could be..." Fillmore said thoughtfully.  
  
"We're getting stuck with overdue library book ticket duty again, aren't we?" Ingrid said in revulsion.  
  
"Probably. Even worse than convention duty."  
  
There was silence through the rest of the walk back to HQ.  
  
*/*/*  
  
"Again?" Valejo (I better have spelled it right. It looks wrong, somehow) asked. "You let John Hasseny escape again? Do you have any idea how annoyed Folsom's gonna be with this? "  
  
Ingrid slammed her backpack down on her desk. "He's a scientifically proven psychic. What should Folsom expect?" she asked, extremely irritated at how high Folsom's expectations of the safety patrol were getting lately.  
  
"Hey, you know Folsom. If you haven't done it right, you might as well have not even tried. Don't get me wrong, I know you guys tried, but Hasseney's a hard egg to crack," Valejo observed, watching Ingrid fume.  
  
"They should just lock him up in some sort of 24/7 perpetual detention. I can't believe he got out last time, after how long it took those guys to catch him. And don't even give me that story about him being proven innocent. That 'evidence' in his defense was pure fabrication," Ingrid said, still outraged. She was getting more and more irritable lately.  
  
"Calm down Ingrid," Fillmore said as he shoved a few more papers into his backpack. "I'm as fed up with Folsom as you are, but you don't have to take it out on Valejo."  
  
"Sorry," Ingrid said guiltily.  
  
Valejo shrugged it off and headed for the hot cocoa machine. "Forget about it."  
  
Ingrid swung her backpack over her shoulders.  
  
"Folsom is getting a little bit irrational with this whole thing," she said, cooling down a bit.  
  
Fillmore slung his backpack on and adjusted the straps. "Maybe so, but if we get Hasseny she'll have to lay off for a while," he said, heading for the door. Ingrid shrugged and followed him.  
  
"You have a point there," she said, shutting the door behind her.  
  
*/*/*  
  
OK, that chapter had nothing to do with the actual storyline. But I had to set the story. Bwah ha ha. 


	2. The Dream Wow Cheesy title

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

(I'm sorry it took so long to get this second chapter up. My comp had a virus and it took forever to fix it. I've only had it back since Friday)

Ingrid trudged into her house, waving over her shoulder at Fillmore before shutting the door. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of soymilk and took it up to her room, depositing her backpack on her desk and sitting down at the chair in front of her computer. She was exhausted, and she had three paragraphs to write for English class before tomorrow. Normally Ingrid would have the assignment done long before anyone else, but Folsom was putting so much pressure on the safety patrol to solve this case that she wasn't herself lately.

Sighing, Ingrid turned her computer on and cracked her knuckles, digging her notes out of her backpack.

"Ok Third, focus. Three paragraphs on Edgar Allen Poe. This is going to be nothing. You already know everything there is to know about the guy already. You can just put the good stuff down on paper and then you can maybe get some rest," she said to herself, starting to type.

_"Hey Ingrid," Fillmore said as Ingrid walked into HQ. He was wearing a clown suit._

_"Hi Fillmore. Um, why are you wearing that?" Ingrid asked. Fillmore looked down at himself and then looked back at her, confused._

_"What do you mean? I always wear this," Fillmore said, raising an eyebrow at her. Ingrid didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about, but she decided to play along with it._

_"Oh yeah. Sorry. Hey wait a minute, since when do you have a hook for a hand?" she asked. Fillmore's eyebrow crept higher up onto his head and started floating in midair._

_"I've always had one. Remember, a Glorg ripped my hand off when I was two. Are you feeling OK?" he asked, his floating eyebrow doing a couple of cartwheels in the air before landing back on Fillmore's forehead. He patted it. "Good Hector," he cooed. This time it was Ingrid's turn to give a bemused look._

_"What-" she began, but she was interrupted by Danny walking by, his hair dyed a bright shade of lime, leading a large royal blue ferret on a leash. Vallejo followed him wearing an extravagant velvet plum gown, long black hair cascading over his shoulders, carrying a pie._

_"hey Third, you're late," he said "Now you don't get any pie." he scooped a large chunk of pie out of the tin in his fist and started to eat it from his fingers. Joseph paraded by, a third arm protruding out of his forehead. He snatched the pie with it and ran. Vallejo ran after him, screaming. Suddenly they both stopped and gravy started to pour from all of the orifices on their heads. Ingrid started to quake._

_What is going on here!!!???" she shrieked, slamming her combat boot down onto the floor. "What is going on!!!???"_

_"Whoa, Ingrid, calm down, "Fillmore said, placing his hook on her shoulder and leading over to a chair. She sat down, still dazed. Fillmore sat down also._

_"OK, Fillmore, will you please explain to me what is going on?" Ingrid said, covering her eyes with her hand. Fillmore sighed._

_"You're not feeling too well, are you? You don't seem to remember anything," Fillmore said._

_"Well, I don't," Ingrid said, flustered. "Not if I'm supposed to remember any of THIS."_

_"I don't know what happened. Maybe you have amnesia," Fillmore said. "But, it'll be ok." he wrapped his one hand around hers. Ingrid jumped and stared at him._

_"Fillmore, what is this?" she asked. Fillmore shook his head, and then he kissed her. Ingrid gasped quite awkwardly and jumped backwards. "Wh-" she began, but then she stopped, leaned over, and kissed Fillmore back_.

Ingrid jumped a foot in the air and looked wildly around the room. She had fallen asleep in front of her computer. There was a lot of gibberish on the computer screen from lying her head on the keyboard. Besides the gibberish, the paper was nearly finished. Ingrid stood up and walked into her bathroom, still a bit shaken. She splashed some water on her face and looked at herself. There were marks on her cheek from having it against the keys on her keyboard. She stood there for a moment, trying to get herself together.

"Calm down. It was just a dream. It was in no way reality. It was in no way even tied to reality. It had nothing to do with anything. Pull yourself together Ingrid," she told herself. She walked back into her room and resumed her paper. She had just finished and was watching it slide smoothly out of the printer when her talkie blared and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She sighed at herself for being so stupid and picked it up. "Yeah?"

"Ingrid?" Fillmore's asked, and Ingrid jumped again at the sound of his voice and then felt foolish once more.

"Hey Fillmore. What's up?" she asked, trying to keep the feeling of awkwardness out of her voice.

"Vallejo wants us back at HQ. Apparently there was another situation with Hasseney a few minutes ago," Fillmore said.

"OK. See you there," Ingrid said, grabbing her sash and backpack and heading out the door again. "You'd better stop being stupid, Third," she muttered as she started down the sidewalk.

(I'll try to get chapter three up soon. Reviews are much appreciated!)


	3. Clean

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing!**

**Woo. It hasn't been so long since the last chapter! I'm on a roll here! Woop! Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter people! You really renewed my desire to keep this story going. So here it is like I promised. Another chapter. Yay**!

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As Ingrid walked into HQ, she got herself together.

"Ok now Third. Don't be stupid this time," she muttered. "Damn I talk to myself a lot."

"What?" Fillmore asked from behind her. Ingrid turned around, startled.

"Um, nothing," she said. Fillmore was leaning against his desk and looking uneasy.

"Sure. OK, let's get going," he said, cracking his knuckles loudly. "I really want to see this guy shut down."

"We all do Fillmore. Let's just concentrate," Ingrid said, trying to keep the uncomfortable edge out of her voice. "If we keep our heads maybe we can get this." _'More like if I can keep my_ _head_,' she thought to herself.

"Yeah," Fillmore muttered.

"So where did it happen?" Ingrid asked.

"A/V closet," Fillmore said. "Let's go."

Several minutes later, Ingrid opened the door to the A/V closet. The two of them walked into the room and looked around. Tehama and Anza were taking checking the room for fingerprints and Danny was taking pictures of the room with no evidence. Everything looked like it was in order. There was no sign of theft or struggle in the closet.

"What did he take?" Ingrid asked, staring at the neatly stocked shelves.

"Entire shipment of new digital video cameras. This guy means business," Tehama said.

"It doesn't look like there's any fingerprints either," Anza said, turning around.

"Nothing. The place is totally clean. How does this guy do it?" Danny asked, looking around the room in confusion.

"Why are we even collecting evidence? We know it was Hasseney. All of us know it. Weren't there any witnesses?" Ingrid inquired.

"Yeah, there were. But it's standard procedure. You know how Folsom is. Everything has to be done a certain way," Tehama said.

"This is pointless. Any evidence we find is just gonna confirm what we already know," Fillmore said, looking frustrated.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. You guys should go home. There's really nothing that can be done here. You too O'Farrel. There's nothing to take pictures of. Like you said, this place is clean," Anza said, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. Fillmore and Ingrid shrugged simultaneously and walked out the A/V closet door. Danny followed close behind, jogging a bit to walk beside them.

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"So, you think we're ever going to catch this guy?" Ingrid asked as they neared her house.

"I hope so. Folsom is not going to be happy with this. It's been weeks. And we don't even know where he is half the time because for some reason he apparently doesn't come home after school," Fillmore answered. Ingrid nodded.

'It was just a dream,' she reminded herself. 'Just a dream.'

"Uh, Ingrid?" Fillmore asked. Ingrid snapped back to attention. And looked sideways at him.

"Yeah?" Ingrid asked.

Fillmore jerked his head to the left, and Ingrid looked in the direction. She realized that they were in front of her house and sighed internally with annoyance at herself for zoning out so completely.

"Oh," she said, feeling exceptionally dense. She turned and walking toward the house. "Later Fillmore."

"Peace out Ingrid," Fillmore said, continuing his journey toward his own abode.

When Ingrid was inside, she closed the door and slapped herself lightly across the face. "Ingrid, you acted completely stupid out there. That dream meant nothing. _NO_thing. It was a dream."

"Ah, but a dream is never absolutely nothing. It is often impacted by feelings. Certain feelings that you are experiencing subconsciously......" said the little voice in the back or Ingrid's mind.

"Shut up!" she told the voice. She really didn't need this right now. "That dream was _not_ funded by any emotions whatsoever. It was stress and too much soymilk. It had nothing to do with Fillmore!"

"I never said it had anything to do with Fillmore," said the voice. "But since you mentioned it there must be something that you're worried about, concerning Fillmore...." the voice taunted. "I know everything inside of you Ingrid. I know what you want, what you need, what you fear."

"I said shut up!" Ingrid said. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Because I know what you will never say," the voice said. At that point, Ingrid just started ignoring it. She went to the refrigerator and poured herself another glass of soymilk. She went up to her room and sat down on her bed, sipping the soymilk slowly. She started to focus on something else, to take her mind off of her personal worries. She turned her thoughts instead to her professional worries. She was starting to get irritated with the fact that Folsom kept them on the case when she probably knew there was no way to catch Hasseny. The guy was a psychic. Widely known and scientifically proven. He knew when someone was coming for him. He knew where they were coming from. He could quite possibly know that she was thinking about the futility of the case at this very moment. If he knew, he was most definitely laughing at the sad little safety patroller with a head full of troubles and no way to solve them.

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Yay, another chapter! I'll write another as soon as possible.


	4. I'm too lazy to name this chapter yet

_Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. _

_Hey everybody, thanks for the reviews! You make me feel so fuzzy inside. I love you all! _

_I think the last chapter was kind of pointless, with them showing up just to go right home after all. Makes no sense. But when Vallejo called them he had no idea they'd have to go right home. _

_I had the world's best soy-based meal in existence today. Boca burgers, woo!_

_OK, enjoy chapter 4!_

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As Ingrid walked into HQ the next morning, Vallejo beat her to her desk. Ingrid's stomach dropped. She knew what was coming.

"Hands out Third," Vallejo instructed, and when Ingrid grudgingly obeyed, he deposited a stack of overdue library book notices into her waiting hands. Ingrid didn't even attempt to hide her disgust.

"Again?" she asked with a sigh. Vallejo nodded.

"Sorry. Folsom's orders. You know if it was my choice I'd have you guys out there on the case," Vallejo said, heading for the cocoa machine. Ingrid sat down at her desk, dropping the overdue library book notices down in front of her. At Fillmore's desk, he was nearly concealed by his stack. He looked over at her.

"Hey Ingrid. Tough break. Folsom putting us on this again. How am I supposed to concentrate knowing Hasseny is out there?" Fillmore said.

He had no idea. His mind was so focused on solving the case, unlike her. He had absolutely no idea what had been going on in her head lately. He had no idea what she was trying to sort out, other than the forms. He didn't have a clue.

'_Have a clue about what?' _Ingrid asked herself. There was really nothing for him to have a clue about going on, was there? She was just being ridiculous. Again. It was strange, even to her. Ingrid wasn't really one to let her emotions and thoughts get out of hand. She was usually in complete control. She had to be, given her position in the Safety Patrol. She had to be alert at any given moment.

"Uh. Ingrid?" Fillmore asked.

"Yes?" Ingrid asked.

"You okay? You were completely zoning off."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little.....stressed," Ingrid said.

"You've been acting kind of strange lately. Something going on?" Fillmore asked. Damn, he _did_ notice.

"Um.....nothing really. Why?" Ingrid asked, even though it was obvious. She was acting completely bizarre, that was why he was asking. She knew as well as he did that she was acting odd.

"You just don't seem like yourself. Is it the case?" Fillmore asked. Internally, Ingrid was grateful that he was changing the subject.

"Yeah, it is. It's taking a lot out of me. I wish we could do something," she said.

"I know. But soon we'll be out on the case again. Then maybe I won't feel so worthless," Fillmore muttered, grabbing one of the papers from his stack and filling it out with the next name and information on the sheet in from of him. Ingrid nodded mutely and started on her forms too.

They had been working into the silence for about half an hour. Ingrid was usually good at tolerating repetitive tasks, but she couldn't focus. Looking up, she glanced around the room. Fillmore was still focused on his atrocious chore. Ingrid looked at him for a moment, noticing the smooth lines of his face, how his neck flowed into his shoulders in a fluid sweep, how his eyebrows arced....

"What?" Fillmore asked. Ingrid realized she'd been staring, and was embarrassed to be caught.

"Nothing," Ingrid said, forcing a smile. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

Fillmore nodded. When he looked back at his work, Ingrid slapped herself mentally. But even as she did, she realized that she had never really seen her partner as.....well.....attractive before. Now that she thought about it......

She slapped herself for real this time, and couldn't blame Fillmore for gawking.

"What was that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow (heh. Hector)

It took the great Ingrid Third a lot of conscious effort to keep from blushing.

"You know Fillmore, maybe you should ignore that," she said rather stupidly, stumbling over words. Fillmore's eyebrow stayed raised.

"Dog. Ingrid, are you sure you're OK?" he asked. Ingrid nodded.

"Yes," Ingrid answered. "I'm positive. I'm sorry about this whole thing. I guess I'm really not myself today. It's the stupid library book ticket duty that has me like this."

"Well, I hope it doesn't get to you too much. We have this tomorrow, too," Fillmore said, grinning and returning to his tickets.

Ingrid shook her head at herself and went back to her duty.

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_Yes, I must admit that this chapter was none too brilliant and a bit short, but the next will be better, I promise! _

_I'm thinking of starting a Fillmore/Teen Titans crossover. What do you guys think? If it does happen, it probably won't be until I finish this, which could be a while. Have good day!  _


	5. Lunch: whoa I'm bad at chapter names

_Disclaimer: No, I still don't own anything. _

_Yay! Chapter five is in da house! Heh. Sorry. I just couldn't help it. _

_This story is getting fun to write. If only you understood how much more interesting it gets. Hee. I know stuff. Thank you guys so much for the reviews again! They're what drives me. If it weren't for you guys, this fic would not be going anywhere. Yay!_

_Enjoy!_

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The next day, Ingrid was filled with even more dread than she had been the day before. She was going to be trapped in the office all day with the stupid forms and nothing to focus on but the confusing thoughts running constantly through her head.

"You'll be fine, Ingrid." she muttered to herself as she entered currently vacant HQ, dropping her backpack on the back of her chair. "You can handle this. You're just under stress. These 'emotions' are just tension induced. They aren't real. Just forget about it and concentrate on getting the rest of you forms filled out so you can just go home already. You'll be OK, it's the last day of this......"

"Talking to somebody?" Fillmore's voice came out of nowhere. Ingrid whipped around and stared him in the face, slightly embarrassed but she kept her cool. It seemed more like the normal Ingrid Third was in control of her body today.

"No. Sorry. Just giving myself a pep talk. Not like that's going to be enough to get me through all this paperwork," she said, feeling a bit more like her old self again and sliding into her chair.

"Yeah. At least we'll be done after today. Gotta look forward to tomorrow," Fillmore said. "And I can't help but notice you seem a lot better. Some of the stress getting better?"

"Very, very slightly," Ingrid said. Fillmore grinned and walked back over to his desk.

'_The emotions aren't real. The emotions aren't real.'_ Ingrid thought. She was a person normally driven by logic. That was who she was. And it was strange to her to have emotions more in control. She began dealing with the evil library book notice forms once more.

Ingrid didn't even bother to attempt focusing on the forms. She started letting her mind wander almost immediately. This wasn't a good thing, but Ingrid decided it didn't matter on a job this trivial. She was usually so focused on any task she might be assigned to. It was unlike her to slack off.

She'd had another dream last night, and so it was almost impossible to look at Fillmore normally today. She tried to see him the way she used to, but it was difficult. As she glanced at him, she realized that she had pretty much been lying to herself, telling herself it wasn't real. Who was she kidding? Certainly not herself.

XXX

"Well, that's about as much as I can stand," Fillmore said, slamming the record book on his desk shut.

"My thoughts exactly," Ingrid said, shutting hers also. "If I have to look at one more of those annoying little slips I'm going to snap."

"Well, I'm starving. What do you say we bail and get some lunch?" Fillmore asked, standing up and grabbing his backpack.

Something about the thought of talking to Fillmore outside of the job made Ingrid feel uneasy. But she sternly scolded herself mentally. '_Get real. This is Fillmore we're talking about. You really think it's going to be weird?' _she told herself.

"Uh, sure. I need a break," she said, standing up.

"Great. Anything to get out of this place," Fillmore said, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. The two of them walked out the door.

XXX

"Wow. I'm a Safety Patroller, and I'm truant. What are the odds?" Ingrid asked, sliding into her side of the booth and picking up an egg roll.

"It feels kind of weird, doesn't it?" Fillmore said, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. "I must be losing my mind. I guess this whole thing is getting to me, too."

"Who would have thought the great Cornelius Fillmore would take lunch off just to avoid duty?" Ingrid asked. Fillmore snorted into his soda. Ingrid grinned at the sight of him mopping up the puddle he had made. There was a pause as Fillmore tried to get the fizzy drink out of his nose without causing an unsightly scene. He gave up and blew his nose loudly on a napkin. Ingrid broke down and started laughing, trying not to choke on her egg roll. Fillmore watched, shaking his head. He stuffed the napkin into the nook behind the napkin holder.

"Well, that was interesting," he said, resuming his eating normally. Ingrid tried to swallow her giggles. Fillmore smiled. "I've never seen you laugh so much, Third. I suppose you enjoyed seeing me publicly humiliate myself?"

"I suppose I did," Ingrid said, her laughter slowly dying away. There was a pause.

"Well, maybe I can finish eating without causing another scene. How much do you want to bet?" Fillmore asked.

"I'll bet you lunch tomorrow that you're going to choke," Ingrid said, starting to enjoy herself.

"It's on," Fillmore said, taking another bite of his egg roll.

There was a brief pause. Ingrid was about to say something when suddenly Fillmore gasped and choked on his egg roll. Ingrid laughed.

"And I emerge victorious," she said. Fillmore coughed up the bit of egg roll he'd been choking on and pointed frantically over Ingrid's shoulder. She turned around to see John Hasseny walking out of the building.

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_Gasp! The fugitive has been sighted! (bites her fingernails)_


	6. Pursuit

_Woop! Chapter six! I have finally gotten into the rhythm of things once more. I'm really enjoying writing this. I feel like I'm getting Ingrid a bit OOC, but I'll work on that. Enjoy chapter six. _

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Ingrid and Fillmore looked at each other and sprang into action, leaping up and hurrying after Hasseny. Ingrid had been having fun, but she was in a way grateful to get back to work, back to her job, back to where everything was separated buy facts and there were no emotions to get in the way. Everything here was purely logic and quick thinking. There was no avoiding feelings and sneaking around issues. Here there was only the fast pursuit of the suspect, the adrenaline pounding, the only thought on your mind was catching the target.

"OK, let's just keep it natural," Fillmore said as they walked quickly after Hasseny. "Maybe he won't suspect-"

Hasseny broke into a run without even glancing back to look at them.

"Psychics," Ingrid muttered in disgust. Fillmore cursed under his breath, and they broke into a run simultaneously, following the fast stride of the boy ahead of them.

Hasseny was faster than Ingrid remembered. He jogged ahead of them, hardly seem to use any effort as the two Safety Patrollers sweated with exertion behind him. They passed a bookstore, and Hasseny sprinted to the left and in the door.

"Does he seem faster to you?" Ingrid panted. Fillmore responded with a nod and a course grunt. They trailed Hasseny into the bookstore. He knocked into a shelf and it collapsed, but he kept running. Ingrid and Fillmore dodged the broken bookcase and followed him out the back door.

"He seems to be underestimating us," Fillmore said. "He thinks we're going to give up."

That was the last thing on either of their minds; giving up. There was no question in the fact that they were going to keep tracking him until he surrendered, or until they caught him. Or unless of course he eluded them once more. Ingrid shuddered at the thought.

Once out on the street again, Hasseny sensed them still behind him, and seemed to lose some of his poise. He was already gasping for breath as he ran.

"He may be a psychic, but he's no marathon runner," Ingrid noted aloud between breaths. She could sense Fillmore's nod at her left.

Hasseny turned and ran down another street.

"Keep after him Ingrid! I'll cut him off!" Fillmore yelled, running around a building and out of sight.

Ingrid pursued Hasseny down the street. Fillmore appeared at the other end, and Hasseny stopped. He was trapped. How he had allowed himself to fall into this situation, Ingrid didn't know. But she was glad he had erred.

"We've got him Ingrid!" Fillmore called. Hasseny had nowhere to run. He stood there for a moment, taking in his hopeless situation, and then suddenly he closed his eyes and-

"Where did he go?" Ingrid asked in mixture of shock and disbelief. Fillmore stared, open-mouthed, at the place where Hasseney had been standing just seconds ago. They both stared for a few seconds.

"Snap! Apparently the kid has some powers we didn't know about," Fillmore said pensively, tapping his chin. "Because he's gone, and he didn't have anywhere to go."

"How did he _do_ that?" Ingrid muttered in skepticism, still staring at the empty road in front of them. Fillmore shrugged, walking over to where she was and stopping.

"We had him. We were so close," he said, shaking his head and shoving his hands into his pockets. Ingrid placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Fillmore," she said. Fillmore nodded, returning the gesture. A strange sensation filled Ingrid's stomach and she could feel her face flush. Fillmore returned his hand to his pocket. Ingrid was glad there were other things on his mind so he wouldn't notice the fact that she was blushing. She stood with her head tilted downward slightly until her face cooled off and she knew it was safe. "Maybe.....maybe we should get back to HQ," she said. Fillmore nodded.

"Yeah," he said, still sounding disappointed. "Dog, I thought we had him."

"So did I," Ingrid said as they started walking back toward HQ.

"How many times is he going to escape?" Fillmore asked no one in particular, sounding extremely frustrated. But Ingrid wasn't paying attention. She was thinking about what had happened back there. She had blushed. Ingrid didn't blush. She'd been in some pretty humiliating situations before, but she didn't blush. And back there, she had.

There were some things that she couldn't just deny anymore.

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_Yay! Another chapter down! Sorry that one was short. More will come soon. _


	7. Acceptance, sort of

_Disclaimer: No! I still don't own anything. I forgot this in the previous chapter. Oops. I don't know if it really matters, though. _

_I'm on a roll. I feel so write-ish. Thanks for the reviews! I feel special! Woo! (looks embarassed at the hyperness)_

_I'm still contemplating on that Fillmore/Teen Titans crossover. I figured maybe I'd have X be where Terra went way back when, before she took off. Hmm. I like this idea forming in me head. I will probably have to write it eventually. _

_But, I digress. So, here is the 7th chapter. It will probably be fairly short, I'm sorry. _

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Ingrid didn't head back to her desk when she and Fillmore returned to HQ. She couldn't stand the paperwork. Not with this much on her mind. She needed to talk to someone. But it certainly couldn't be to Fillmore. This was girl talk.

Tehama wasn't at her desk when Ingrid went over, so she sat down in Tehama's chair to wait for her to return. She fiddled with her sash absentmindedly, staring off into space.

She really wanted to deny what was going on here, but the truth was she couldn't. It was far too obvious. She sighed loudly. If someone had told her this was going to develop before it had, nothing would have been able to prepare her for it. And it really was a shock. She knew these things happened, but why to her? Why did it have to be Fillmore? Things would be much less complicated if it were someone else. Pretty much anyone else. She hoped Tehama would be able to help her sort things out. God, she couldn't handle it herself. She had so many other things to worry about at the moment. She really didn't need this. But Ingrid was a sensible person, and she knew that ignoring something rarely just made it go away.

"Hi Ingrid," said a voice, jolting her out of her thoughts. She jumped and looked around. Tehama stood over her, holding a steaming mug. "Is there a particular reason you're in my desk?"

"Yes, actually. You see, I kind of need some help," Ingrid said, standing up and giving Tehama her chair back. Tehama sat down and Ingrid leaned on the edge of the desk.

"Ah, I see. You need me to give you another lesson in fingerprinting? If that's the case, you better cough up the chocolate beforehand," Tehama said.

"No, it isn't about fingerprinting. This is a little more...personal," Ingrid said. Tehama nodded.

"I see. The machine is on the wall in the bathroom and you just-"

"No, it's not that," Ingrid said, shaking her head. "It's something else."

"Well, I can't help you if you don't tell me what it is," Tehama said.

"Alright then. You see, lately I've been feeling some things around Fillmore, and this is completely unnatural," Ingrid said. "I mean, this is Fillmore we're talking about."

"So you got the hots for Fillmore, eh? I was wondering when that was going to happen," Tehama said, grinning.

"What do you mean?" Ingrid asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Apparently you haven't noticed, but word is you guys would make quite the couple," Tehama said.

"What _word_? Who says that?" Ingrid asked.

"Oh, people. I hear quite a bit of talking, you know," Tehama said.

Ingrid shrugged. "OK, I'll let that go and pretend I never heard."

"So, exactly what about this issue requires you to ask for help? You sound like you know what's going on," Tehama said.

"I don't know what to do. This kind of thing isn't normal for me," Ingrid said.

"So, you tell him, that's what you do. Unless of course you'd rather keep it bottled inside and keep stressing over it," Tehama said.

"I know what you're thinking. I'll get around to telling him eventually. But he's got enough hassle going on right now with the whole Hasseney thing. I'll wait," Ingrid said.

"That is assuming you tell him at all," Tehama said, grinning. Ingrid sighed.

"Yeah," she muttered. "You're probably right." she paused. "This is just confusing, that's all."

"I never thought I'd see Ingrid Third confused. This must be bad," Tehama said. Ingrid shrugged.

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_I apologize for the shortness. I couldn't think of a better stopping place for this. I'll get chapter eight up as soon as possible! _


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